To set the darkness, forever echoing
by Mori'draug Arthye
Summary: It has been a week. In a cold, dusty and murky old cell a "seemingly" Dark Elf maiden hangs in chains of the Imperial City prison, taunted by another Dunmer ruthlessly. "Deformed", nobody seems to notice this, but all know of the role she will play.
1. The beginning

_**To set the Darkness, forever echoing-- the time when darkness puts a permanent unforgettable mark on the land, lettnig this mark forever echo in the sound of time, and in the pages of History. Mehrunes Dagon, Daedric Prince, Prince of Destruction will conquer. **_

_**These are the final chapters of Uriel Septims' life, and the beginning of a Dremora girl. The prologue of a long, cold night.  
**_

_**--**_

The cell was filled with a murky smell, and dust motes danced in the air. Through lack of light, eerie shadows were cast over the cell, with just a small sliver of moonlight flooding through the tiny window. Surpressing a groan, two dead eyes struggled to open, mucus sealing them shut. The eyes opened slowly, two dark pits in which there was no return scowering the cell. It was held up by chains, cold shackles tied around dark wrists to hold the creature up.

"Well you're an ugly sort."

Glancing over toward the door, the pathetic creatures' eyes narrowed, the dark eyes burrowing a hole into the Dark Elf's skull.

"My my. I haven't been with a woman in a very long time. Say, a guard owes me something. Perhaps I can exchange that to be moved into your cell. Look at how beautifully your Dunmer skin is on display."

The creature chuckled slightly and straightened, not at all embarressed that her body was on complete display for that wretched Dunmer in the opposite cell.

"My my, look at the curves. And the.. those aren't natural for a Dunmer, are they?" The creature shook it's head and attempted a smile, revealing a large set of completely white teeth. "Horns? My, you are quite the abberation."

"No worse than you," The creature ground out, gripping the cold chains and tugging them a little, testing the strength. "I could get out of here in a blink."

"You won't get anywhere, dressed like that."

The creature shrugged and looked over to the window. This irritating Dunmer was supposed to be a meal on legs, not a conversation. "Dunmer." The creature gasped out, "I will repay you if you help me in my escape. Clothes would be good."

"Now, why would I do that?"

"I said I would repay you. I have talents."

The Dunmer in the opposite cell pushed his arms through the bars of the cell door and leaned against the metal. "Talents, you say?"

"I've been told."

"What kind of talents?"

The creature rolled its dark eyes and shook it's head. "Just do it." The creature tugged on the chains once more and tried to imagine incredibly hot flames. Perhaps if it melted the chain off she could use what was left of the chain to shimmy up to the window. However, drawing from whatever power it had and attempting the spell wasn't worth it, as a shock raced through it's body and sent it convulsing.

"Tried opening the lock on those shackles with magic, whore?" The irritating Dunmer cackled and shook his head, laughing. "They enchant the chains in these cells. Not only are they strong but nobody can use any magic!"

The creature now hung limply in the chains and groaned slightly. "I hate Imperials."

"Don't we all?"

The creature raised its head slightly, it's black long hair flowing over its shoulders and face, covering the large horns that sprouted from its' forehead. "Listen." The Dunmer spoke, it's words hushed and fast, "I'll put a word in with my guard friend, and see if I can be exchanged into your cell."

"And I would repay this honour.. with..?"

"I'll think of something," The dunmer laughed, and even the creature couldn't resist turning up the corners of its mouth in a mock-smile. "What did you do, anyway to get stuck in here?"

The creatures' smile faded and its' head lowered slightly, the long dark hair covering its' face from the Dunmers' view.

"I was born."


	2. The makings of an escape

A day had passed- the sun and moon met and conversed, and the eternal moon left to greet the new day. The prison cells and their dark stone coated in grime and muck seemed to shine with the sunlight, the room becoming bright with the low sun.

The Dunmer, known as Valen Dreth had discussed with a guard, and sacrificed three days of ration to be put in the same cell as the female creature that still hung limp in the chains.

"By Azura.. You're a Dremora!"

The creature groaned slightly and looked up, its' eyes dead and in pain. "I can't hurt you." It muttered, closing its' eyes tiredly. "How did you recognise me, when the guards cannot?"

Valen Dreth shrugged and sat at the table, leaning his back against the stone wall. "I've studied the Daedric Gods."

"Ah." The creature chuckled and shook its' head. "A cultist." During the course of the past 24 hours, the creature had been left in the cold chains, the chilling air that swept through as the night progressed chilling her to the bone. Shivering, the creature lowered its' head again, its' neck tired, aching and hurting.

"You're cold."

"You're very observant." The Dremora chuckled, closing its' eyes in an act of submission. "My limbs ache.."

"You've been like that for a few days, now." Valen stood and crossed the distance between them, and placed his dark skinned hands on the Dremoras' dark hips. The creature opened its' dark eyes and laughed.

"You're going to take your payment now?"

"No, i'm going to help you. You've been standing or hanging in those chains for several days now. You're hungry and tired." The Dunmer looked up at the Dremora with sad eyes and attempted a soft smile. "I'll take care of you."

"Where did this change come from? You were threatening before to take me while I still hung in these chains."

"You're a servant of my Gods'. I respect that. And you're obviously in pain, my good Dremora, and I am not as heartless as you'd seem to think." Valen nodded slightly and reached to the collar of his shirt, hefting the ratty material over his head. He wrapped it around his waist, covering the whole of his front and back with this makeshift skirt, before hefting his pants off. "Lift your legs." The Dremora grunted slightly as one leg slowly lifted, and Valen lifted the pant fabric around the thin, athletic leg. They repeated this for the other, and soon, the Dremora wore pants, finally. The pants were too large, and sagged over her hips slightly, but there was indeed warmth to be had in the fabric.

"It's not much, but it'll help." Valen walked towards the table at the other side of the room and dragged the wooden table and chair towards the weakened Dremora.

"If I was in my full glory, I would rip these chains away."

"And yet, you are not in your full glory, Dremora." Valen whispered the last word, watching out of the corner of his red eye as a guard made his rounds among the cells, "You are weakened, unfed and unequipped." The Dunmer glanced down at the bowl that had been left earlier that morning, taking in the sight of the piece of bread. "Looks like it's just bread, Dremora." Valen ripped the bread in half, and showed it to the Dremora. "Can you eat this?" He asked, and the Dremora nodded readilly.

"Please.. I hunger.." The Dremora groaned, reaching forward with her neck to grab at the bread with her teeth. "Please."

Valen smiled slightly and nodded. Running a hand through his long grey hair, he held the piece of bread for the Dremora to take, and take it she did, opening her mouth large enough to pull it into her mouth and catch his hand and lick whatever crumbs could be left there into her mouth. Valen laughed slightly, "Hungry, aren't you?"

"Famished." The Dremora muttered, chewing gratefully on the bread. It wasn't enough, but then again, at least she was given some form of food. "Thank you, Dunmer." The creature closed its' eyes and bowed its' head in gratitude, and Valen did the same.

"There's no water. I'll have a word with the guard."

"What about you? You have already sacrificed three days of food."

"You've gone for longer." The Dunmer muttered, pulling the large clay bowl and jug off the table. He cast these aside, placing them on the stone work in the corner. He moved back towards the Dremora who watched him carefully, and wrapped an arm around the creatures' strong legs, just under its' rump. Using what strength he had, he lifted the surprisingly light Dremora off the ground, and he tugged the table under her. When he set her back down again, she could sit on the table instead of stand. She let out a long moan of approval and gratitude.

"Thank you, again, Dunmer. My legs can rest."

"There isn't much I can do about your arms. If I had something I'd pick the lock on them, or cut the chains."

"It matters not. An Imperial should be by soon and release me."

"That's likely. What would you do, then?"

"Snap the swits' neck and flee." This caused Valen to laugh. "What? Is it not a well thought out plan?"

"No, it isn't. You're in the Imperial City. Nobody has escaped since the days of Jagar Tharn."

"That doesn't bode well for me, then, does it?" The Dremora let out a sick laugh and sighed. "I am tired."

"You should be. It'll be cold again tonight, but at least you're properly covered."

"I don't want to be cold again."

"Of course not. In Oblivion it's always warm. There's no such thing as winter in the Daedric plane."

"Stay with me." The Dremora pleaded, raising her head to look at Valen with tired eyes. "Please."

"Of course, Dremora." Valen moved beside the tired Dremora and sat next to it, wrapping his arms around its' midsection. "Be warm, Dremora. Cold nights are not meant for you."

She smiled, and closed her eyes, leaning in towards Valen. "Thank you, Dunmer. You've been of much help."

"Anything for the Daedra."

"Daedra worshippers.." The Dremora tutted and shook its' head, laughing a little. "You are a strange bunch."

--

The first sound that graced their ears was the sound of a gate being opened. There were voices but neither of them could make what they were saying out, and they just sat there, Valen sore from having a Dremora leaning on him all night and the Dremora, tired beyond belief as nightmares had assaulted her once more.

"The usual mix-up with the watch.. I-i.."

"Never mind, get that gate open."

Valen opened a red eye and glanced over at the door, and watched with interest as someone shuffled around in their pockets for a key. "Dremora," Valen whispered, "Wake up. Guards." He brushed some of the Dremora's hair back and the creature woke with a start, looking fearfully around.

"Guards?" It whispered, eyes wide and alert. "Where?"

"Just at the gate. You're a Dunmer. Birth defect, alright?"

"Whatever you say." The Dremora whispered, raising its' head to watch as four people walked slowly into their cell. Immediately she knew something was wrong. They didn't wear the same armor as the guards, or wield the same weapons. Even the man in the robe looked different.. the man in the robe.. Uriel Septim. How she knew that, she did not know.

"You.." Upon seeing the two "Dunmer" in the cell, Uriel Septim spoke. "I've seen you before.." He smoothed down his elegant robe and closed the distance between them. "You are the one from my dreams.. Then the stars are right, and today is the day.. Gods, give me strength."

"The one from your dreams? What am I doing here?"

"Perhaps the God's placed you here so that we might meet."

The Dremora shook her head and groaned slightly, her neck aching already. "If I am the one from your dreams, then you should set me free. Maybe I can aid you."

"Perhaps. Baurus," He called, and a Redguard saluted him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Free this Dunmer.." He turned back to the creature and asked, "Pardon me, but I don't recall your name."

The Dremora glanced at Valen and lowered her head. "I myself do not know. This Dunmer might."

"Alessia. This is my poor daughter who has suffered greatly at the hands of a Necromancer. He used her and left her here with no memory of anything. Thinking she could take an apple from a stall, she was jailed and left here to rot."

"Your courage is inspiring, Alessia. You are an asset to your father." He glanced over at Baurus and said, "Let her free. She deserves not to be held back by chains and shackles."

"But she's a prisoner--"

"For a minor crime of trying to live. Let her free."

"Please sire, we must keep moving." Captain Renault fussed, placing her hand on a brick that lay in the mass of stone. No sooner had she pressed it, that what was supposed to be a large wall creaked open as if on hinges. The Blades moved quickly into the tunnel, pushing the Emperor through with them, leaving "Alessia" and Valen staring in complete shock at the wall. It was minutes before either spoke.

"Well." Said Valen, "I suppose it was good luck that I moved to your cell."

"It's good luck you did, I don't know how I would have explained myself. Alessia? Your daughter?"

Valen shrugged. "I'm old. You look as if you're barely out of your teenage years. If I said I was your brother, or lover, they would have thought me a.. child molester."

"Smart. And I am far older than you, Dunmer." The Dremora wrapped its' arms around her midsection and she shivered. "It's still cold."

"We've got an escape route. We can get you some proper clothes when we get out. Then, we'll part." They both stood, although the Dremora was quite shaky on her feet.

"Part?" She asked, eyes wide at the prospect. "I.. I suppose it would be.. I still have to repay you."

"That you do. But you're a Dremora, my friend, and I cannot hold you to that promise."

"No nobilities, Dunmer. I am as you are, now. You will hold me to that promise, and I shall accompany you when we are free."

"You're just scared, aren't you?" Valen teased, but when she nodded, his face softened.

"Deathly afraid." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and held the Dremora close.

"It'll be alright, Alessia. You'll see."

"I should be a warrior, not cowering for my life."

Valen smiled a little. "You've just appeared out of nowhere and been chained in a cell for a week with no food, water or clothes. In Oblivion, where it's always hot you wouldn't have minded, but here it is cold, foreign. You have every right to be afraid."

"I suppose." She frowned slightly. "Do I really look like a teenager?"

"You look just barely out of your teen years, yes."

"That's very strange." The Dremora said, moving out of his arms to stand in the doorway where the three soldiers and the Emperor had disappeared. "I'm several centuries old." Saying nothing else, the Dremora moved down the corridor leaving Valen standing gobsmacked in the cell.

"Several centuries old?!" He asked, before chasing after the girl, moving as fast as his makeshift skirt would allow.

--

"We must be cautious." The Dremora muttered, moving fast along the wall of the Ayleid corridor, a little bit behind the Blades. "Ayleid Ruins are said to be full of dangers."

"You know this.. how..?"

The creature turned to Valen with an amused look on her face. "I know this, because Ayleid's are Daedra. Daedra, are dangerous. Therefore, Ayleid's are dangerous, and therefore, their ruins should be, too."

"Point made." Valen peaked out around the corner and gazed down the stair way, watching as the Dremora fiddled with the hem of her pants.

"I am used to wearing armor, not cloth."

"You must be used to wearing nothing, the way you were a few hours ago."

"Shut up," The Dremora hissed angrilly, watching angrilly as Valen laughed at her expense. "Irritating Dunmer."

"Whose pants are you wearing?"

"They're not yours anymore. You know, it would have made a LOT more sense if you had given me your shirt. You are much larger than me, and therefore, it would have covered me quite nicely. But, no, you have to think things through with that Dunmer brain of yours."

"Nah, I just still wanted to see your chest."'

The creature glared at him and pointed at his shirt. "You will give me that, now. I will return your pants."

"If I take these clothes off, my lovely, I might be inclined to do something."

"You had me bound in a cell and you still didn't do anything."

"You were Daedra. I was scared."

"Of course you were," She sneered. "Just proves that you haven't got any courage to do what you said you would."

"You sure of that, Daedra?" Valen hissed, his face contorted into a sneer. "Fine." Using his legs, he leapt at the Daedra and knocked her flat onto her back. With his knees he spread her legs open and with one dark hand took hold of her wrists, and pulled them close together above her head. "How do you feel now, Daedra?"

"Pretty good." He hadn't expected that. "You lying ontop of me, my legs completely spread..." She smiled a sweet smile, before slipping her leg under his knees and bringing it up to kick him in the groin.

"You Fetcher!" Valen cursed, clutching himself in his hands, on his back now that the Dremora had vacated the space under him.

"You deserved it. My repayment shall be on my own terms. When I want, and if I want."

"Not much of a repayment."

"Oh, it will be." She grabbed at the shirt around his waist and pulled at it with one hand, her other pushing the pants down her slender legs. "Thanks." She muttered, pulling the large shirt over her shoulders. It covered her, right down to her knees. "This is good. I am now appropriately covered." She sneered at Valen. "Get your pants on, Dunmer." She peered around the corner, glancing out, watching as.. wait.. Glancing to the left she saw a.. was that armor? She turned to Valen. "Hurry up, Dunmer. They have arrived."

"Who?"

"The Mythic Dawn."

Both knew what trouble they were in.

--

"The Captain's down!"

"And she will be sent to meet with the Nine." The Dremora said, moving out of the shadows to talk to them. "Do not mourn for her, for she is in a much better place, now."

"The girl speaks truth, Glenroy." Baurus muttered.

"How could they be waiting for us here?" Glenroy cursed, his sword making a metalic sound as he pushed it into its' sheath.

"No idea, but it's too late to turn back now. Prisoners, you'll stay here. Don't try to follow us." They left, Glenroy looking at the two in filthy rags with disgust, Baurus looked at them with pity, but.. Uriel Septim looked at them as if they were equals.

"We shall meet again, before the end," He assured them both, a sad smile on his wise face before following the two Blades.

The Dremora moved quickly, and searched the pockets of the mythic dawn. "They're wearing robes. Strip one and put the robes on. Don't put the hood on. We don't want to alert anybody, make them think we're Mythic Dawn." She grabbed the potions that were in one of the assassin's pockets, and pulled the robe off of him. "This is good. Clothes." She pulled the shirt off of herself and threw it back at Valen. "Take it, I don't need it anymore."

She turned to pull the robe over her head, and didn't notice as Valen stared at the Dremora's flawless body. He watched as the quite attractive Dremora pulled the robe over her form, and watched as she finally took warmth into her cold skin. Her shivering quickly ceased. "Oh thank Dagon." The Dremora muttered, leaning down to put the boots on. "Warm. Warmth."

Valen laughed a little and shook his head. "You really don't like the cold, do you Dremora?"

"Not one bit. I've lived in Oblivion all my life. It's warm, humid. You should try a lava bath. They're.. how do you say.. Heaven on Nirn."

"I'll bet." Valen shook his head again and pulled his shirt on, before doing the same as the Dremora had with his robe. "We'll need some weapons. Do you see any?"

"None that I can.. Hold on.." She knealt beside Captain Renaults body and ran her fingers over the Akaviri Warblade. "Would this blade suffice?"

"Of course. Is that the only one around?"

"Looks like." The dremora muttered, standing. She held the blade in her hands and shook her head. "I need a bow."

"You're a marksman?"

"No, actually. I was born into the Mages Caste. By all rights, I am a Dremora Valkynaz. I took up Marksmanship when Lord Dagon requested I learn all three disciplines."

"So you can handle a blade?"

"Yes, Dunmer." She handed him the Akaviri warblade, and watched as he knitted it into the belt that came with the robe.

"We should stop calling each other by our race names. I'm Valen Dreth."

"My Dremora name is unprenouncable, thus, useless to you."

"What's it mean?"

"Slave." The Dremora looked away and sighed. "By the end.. The end of my time in Oblivion.." The Dremora shook its' head and turned back. "This is my Hell, Dunmer. This is not Paradise."

"I understand." Valen sighed softly. "We'll call you Alessia, then?"

"That's a name of the Nine."

"And, your point being?"

"I am no friend to the Nine."

Valen shook his head and patted the Dremora on the back. "You could have attacked me, several times. But you didn't."

"You helped me. Fed me. Clothed me. I'm in your debt."

"But you could have just killed me and have been done with it. Yet you didn't. You showed me mercy."

The Dremora looked away, as if shamed. "Even when I had you on the ground, you could have snapped my neck and taken my clothes. Instead you chose to share."

"I'm not originally Dremora." The creature whispered. She rubbed her eyes, which had become slightly moist, before standing, moving up from her previous crouched postion on the floor. "We should continue." She muttered, moving past Valen so she could survery their surroundings.

"Not originally Dremora?" Valen asked. He turned around, fidgeting slightly. "Then, what were you before?"

The girl looked back at him and sighed. "That matters not at this time." She moved to the door where the Trio had left, and tried the handle. "Door's locked. No way out."

"Dead end." Dreth muttered.

"Not for long," The Dremora muttered, moving to one of the walls, her eyes set on the ledge above. "Could be a way."

"Or another dead-end."

"We don't know unless we try!" She barked, glaring at him.

"Oh, and how do you suggest we get up THAT?" Valen said cooly. She glared at him and leapt up, her hands gripping the edge of the wall. Suddenly, bending inhumanly, she flipped up onto the ledge above, and looked down at Dreth, panting slightly.

"That should have been easier. I'm still weak," She said in her unnatural voice, which seemed slightly softer now. The Dremora looked around, and moved toward a wooden door on her right. "This could be it."

"How did you do that?" Dreth asked, eyes wide.

"When you're Drem-- Dreth! Look out!" Her black hand pointed across the room, and there he saw it. Saw the wall. The wall crumbled, and two large rats launched themselves through the thick dust at him. Dreth withdrew his blade and screamed out a cry of some sort, slashing the sharp blade infront of him, one of the rats coliding with it, dying instantly. The other was a different story. which had fled to the far wall, hissing like only a rat could. The Dremora held out her hand and focused, a large ball of flame appearing and then leaving her hand, coliding with the rat as it leapt for Dreth again. The rat fell to the ground, rather burnt, and a foul smell washed over the room-- the smell of burnt ratflesh.

"That is disgusting."

"Did you wanna die?" The Dremora leapt down, stumbling slightly. "Are you alright?" She checked over Dreth once for wounds, before moving towards the newly formed hole inthe wall. "This looks like a way out." She went in first, her dark lifeless eyes scowering the cave. "It's safe to come through." She looked over toward her right and saw a half open chest. Smiling slightly, she inched towards it, lowering herself into a crouch. Her dark fingers carressed the wooden lid gently, before heafting it open.

"Dreth." She muttered, calling the Dark Elf to her. "Look." Inside the chest was a large axe. "Can you use an axe?"

Valen smiled and gripped the hilt of the axe, and tested it around his hands. "Better than I can a sword. Take this." He handed the blade to her and she swished it in the air a few times. "Ah. An axe." He looked up at the girl. "Finally. Something proper."

"If you say so, old man." She had a soft smile on her features as she snuck through the cave, Valen beside her all the way.

"Old? I'll have you know i'm barely older than you look. Twenty Five years."

"You have grey hair."

Valen shrugged, and watched as the Dremora sat, leaning back onto a small mound of dirt in the cave. "Doesn't mean i'm old."

"Perhaps not." The Dremora lay down, and arched its' back in a long stretch, its' arms high above its head. "My muscles ache." She stated, glancing over toward Dreth. "My whole body feels like it's been turned to stone."

"Would you like to rest a while?"

"It is unimportant, Dreth." She stood, shaking herself a little to get the blood flowing. "What is important, is the matter of the Mythic Dawn."

"You know who they are?"

"I've communed with them, for a time, yes. I cannot give you details, for I do not remember much. But, i can tell you that they are here to assasinate the Emperor. We cannot stop this, but we must move as fast as possible. After this day, things will move quickly. We must move twice as fast for victory."

"How do you know so much?"

The Dremora chuckled a little before moving towards a small hole in the roof which let light flood into the cavern. She spotted a skeleton covered in leather armor and muttered, "Because my lord and master is Mehrunes Dagon."


End file.
